


Amor Vincit Omnia

by orphan_account



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Multi, Murder Mystery, Vampires, the volturi being spooky, this is definitely not serious, vampire murder mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 23:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Adeline's Dad disappeared the only clues to his whereabouts were left in the horror novels he wrote. And for some reason, these seem to have brought Adeline to an Italian town with a few horrors of its own.Felix has never been able to resist a good mystery and let's face it the human is never solving this herself.Will this unlikely pair manage to come anywhere near to finding her missing dad? Will Adeline manage to avoid becoming dessert for several hungry vampires? and will Aro ever start to make sense?





	Amor Vincit Omnia

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun collab with @itsvolturibaby on Tumblr! who you should totally check out for high quality Volturi posting! Anyway hope you enjoy this story!

“ With the rational mindset possed by so many in our United States, it is hard to believe that just across the sea rumour and superstition abound.For one small village set in the Tuscan countryside one particular superstition reigns, a belief in Vampires. These are not any of our thriller movie spooks but an army of relentless undead who, so the legends say, stalked the land until one brave man put a stop to their quest for power. That man is known locally as St Marcus, but his true origins are much less Christian than would be believed. So sit back, put on your reading light and lose yourself in this tale of love, self-sacrifice and blood drinking monsters. Oh and for god's sake don’t look out the window…”  
Aaron Wethern, “Introduction to St Marcus’ Tale” from “Horror Stories from Europe”

Adeline closed the book and leant back in her seat with an exaggerated sigh. She had spent enough her life searching for meaning in her Dad's books and had so far found nothing but fairy tales and long dead superstitions. But something would not allow her to end the search, whether it was the cryptic dreams that haunted her nights, or the emails from her father's various fans containing wild conspiracy theories, she somehow knew she would not be able to rest until she found some clue as to what had really happened to him. Which was, Adeline supposed, why she was now seated in an overheated coach, winding its way through the too narrow country lanes to the town of Volterra.

She had not allowed herself this indulgence before. No matter how many times this strange town was referenced in her father's books, or how long he spent there, the plane ticket to take her from San Diego to Naples was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

But to Adeline's surprise, she had received an invitation to her college roommates wedding in Italy, along with the promise to pay her fare to come along as a bridesmaid. It was almost unbelievably lucky. What slightly soured the deal was that she was now trapped in Italy with a group of over-enthusiastic women she barely knew for a “bachelorette” preceding the wedding.

The trip to Volterra had been a handy escape and a chance for some well needed alone time after the relentless partying. As none of her companions seems interested in any historical town, no matter how spooky its reputation. The coach finally pulled to a stop away from the walls and the driver explained over the loudspeaker, first in fluent Italian and then in broken English, that due to preparations for a festival they wouldn’t be able to get any closer to the town but the walk would be easy enough.

“The Festival of St Marcus” Adeline guessed asking as much to the man seated beside her who shrugged and looked so annoyed about the short walk that she decided not to bother him any further. But instead hopped off the coach with a quick “Gracias” and started the winding walk to Volterra. The day was cool but easy enough and there was no denying that the countryside was beautiful. Adeline easily left the rest of the group behind as she climbed the steep road to the entrance of the small walled town.

There was a harried looking man redirecting traffic away from the gate and he gave Adelie a relieved smile as she headed through on foot, making a comment that she could only roughly translate into something about sensible choices. 

The town was as beautiful as she had always imagined it, the ancient yellow stones seemed warm and comforting in the summer sun, and the fluttering red banners that were being hung from the rooftops added an undeniable air of celebration. The sense that something was about to happen hung in the air. The people hurried around her carrying sweets and wreaths and red cloaks, and she felt as invisible as she’d felt ever since arriving in Italy.

Adeline soon left the busy central streets behind, they weren’t why she was here. But as she moved to quieter lanes her sense of jubilation diminished. There was no sign of her father ever having been there. The streets were as he described and yet they felt absent of his ghost. And when she paid the entrance to the shrine of St Marcus all she found was the grisly relic that was said to be all that remained of the saint. A skull pierced through the eye with a metal blade. Adeline found herself studying the dead thing in front of her, it seems so far removed from the soft, sweet peaceable man described in the story that she couldn’t believe it ever was him. She left the shrine feeling as if a stone was forming in the pit of her stomach. Her father wants here and if he wasn't here he wasn't anywhere.

Her mother had been right, she supposed when she’d called Adeline's search foolish and deluded. The words had hit hard, but she knows her Mom was as devastated as her. But she’d thrown herself into work whereas Adeline had lost herself in theories and speculation. Now she knew for sure who the sensible one had been.

As if noticing Adeline's mood the sky seemed to split open covering the town in a cloud of rain. She took off at a run for the central Plaza if there was somewhere to shelter until the rain stops it would be there. But to Adeline’s annoyance in every shop seemed to be the same sign “Chiuso per il Festival di San Marco” which she has no trouble translating as a clear indication that she just going to get soaked. Adeline pulled up the thin hood of her jacket and hunched into its limited cover, supposing she was just going to get drenched when she noticed that the small archway in the shade of the clock tower seemed empty but more importantly dry.

The stone archway presented a welcome respite from the rain and Adeline pulled down her hood and shook the raindrops from her dark hair, the rain always seemed to play havoc with her hair and she knew that in minutes it would dry into an untameable mass of curls, so much for the hair straighteners she thought wryly pulling on one lock and wincing as it bounced back up into a slender ringlet.

It didn't seem like she was going to get much out of today, so in disappointment Adeline pulled out her phone to check when she should return to the coach, she scrolled through her screenshots to find the one with the details of her trip and realised that she still has a few hours to fill, and with the rain showing no sign of abating she realised those hours are likely going to be spent in this alleyway, sheltering from the rain.

She paused to once again regret ever coming to Volterra, but the sharp click of a latch startled her, she turned around but there was no-one there only a wooden door hanging half open. No one could have come out and left without her seeing, but still, she felt the uncanny sense that she was being watched. The door looked ancient maybe as old as the building itself, though rationally Adeline knew that was unlikely. And through the gap, she could see a dimly lit hallway seeming to twist downward beneath the tower. 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Adeline pulled open the door for a better look, the hallway seemed innocuous enough but her attention was pulled to a plaque on the wall, the writing was in Italian but luckily for her an English translation accompanied it. There's nothing on it she didn’t already know, it merely detailed the age of the clocktower and its necessity in timekeeping when the majority of people lacked clocks in their homes. It made for boring reading but the seal reading “Volterra tourism board” gives her all indication she needed that this pace was public access. 

There was not much to see she decided as she ventured future into the building but something pushed her onwards, maybe it was her relentless curiosity or perhaps a line from her dad's book that haunted her thoughts.

“ The corridors twisted as if they had been built a purposeful labyrinth, and though Amy knew the Saint was long dead she was sure she heard his footsteps haunting hers” 

The story mirrored her very surroundings and while she doubted she'd find any vampire slaying ghost, Adeline was almost sure she’d find something. The place seemed so familiar she was sure she'd seen it before, though perhaps only in dreams.

Low voices from ahead, provided a reality check and Adeline knew at once that despite the signs she shouldn’t be here, turning on her heels she headed for the exit casually as if she was merely confused. The tunnels at once seem claustrophobic and as she went on Adeline released in horror that she couldn't remember where she came from, the voices grew closer, though she knew they must be different people, the others couldn't have caught up with her this quickly. 

She knew they were going to catch up with her so Adeline made a split decision that she would spend the rest go her life picking apart and wondering: what if? She pushed through a door labelled “cleaning” and trapped herself in a small cupboard.

The voices grew louder outside, talking in a language that she didn't understand, but swore wasn't Italian, the tone seemed almost joking and Adeline hoped she was misreading this detail. She held still and tried not to breathe, they can’t know she’s here and soon they'll move on and she'd run, and then she supposed that if they did find her it couldn't be any worse than a warning? The rationalisation didn’t explain why she was shaking so much or why her voice built up into a hysterical whimper as the door of her hiding place was yanked open…

…..

“There’s a human sniffing around the west entrance,” says Demetri, hurling a wickedly sharp knife into the dartboard with inhuman precision, though I’m not really sure what I should have expected.

“Wanna check it out?” I ask hopefully, hanging around has always been my least favourite part of guarding and a human could provide a tiny bit of interest to my day.

“Nah” decides Demetri “no human's come into the castle without our express intention since...’

“since Afton,” says Jane’s childlike voice behind me, I've always wondered how she's able to traverse the castle so quietly “ and we all know what happened to him,” she says with a twisted smile, that seems to suggest he suffered a worse fate than merely ending up married to Chelsea. Though I suppose in Janes eyes that could be a fate worse than death.

“Yeah,” says Demetri looking confused, “actually forget everything I just said, the humans in the castle”

“then you better go get them,” says Jane in a voice that ensures no argument.

“yes ma’am,” I say with a joking salute that makes her giggle, and she’s gone in a flutter of a dark cloak.

“Does she ever stop being freaky?” asks Demitri, which is an odd question considering he’d been living with Jane for the past 1,000 years, though I'm even older than her so maybe I’m some kind of authority on spooky kids. 

“Nah, it is her the thing,” I say “so you wanna grab the human?’

“Sure" mutters Demitri throwing the last knife in his hands into the wall and we head off to find the human falling into an easy coordination out of years of practice.

I can smell the human's blood from a mile away, nothing special about it, but I am thirsty enough that it is slightly tempting. 

“Head in the game” Demitri reminds me, which is all the more insulting considering I have hundreds of years of self-control on him.

The scent leads us straight to a cleaning closet.

“she’s hiding” laughs Demitri, using his native Greek, and I wonder if he’s trying to avoid giving the human an idea of who we are.

“She?” I ask in Latin, two can play at that game, I’m still confused to just how accurate Demitris tracking instincts are.

He merely rolls eyes and gripping the door handle pulls it open to reveal a cowering human girl, I guess he was right after all.

She gives a half shriek and I can't help but wonder exactly what scares her so much, she’s seen nothing yet. 

I don't recognise her from around Volterra, which suggests she's a tourist though her dark curls, terrified hazel eyes and nondescript clothes give very little indication of exactly where she's on holiday from.

“Cosa stai facendo qui?” Asks Demitri in a more aggressive tone than I would have used and the girl just stares blankly.

“Non parlo molto Italiano” she stammers out finally in a very obviously American accent, well I suppose that’s mystery solved.

“You're lost?” I ask and she nods looking relieved 

“I can leave now," she says earnestly,” I wandered here by accident  
I shouldn’t have and I’ll leave now”

“Alright we'll show you out,” I say and Demitri looks disappointed but I’m not about to put us all in danger to mess with one human.

The girl nods relieved and stumbles on ahead of us, I’m reminded of that Bella Swan, no Cullen who’s been giving us hell for a good while, back when she was still an incessantly clumsy human, though I suppose at least the girl can blame her lack of coordination on terror.

Then Demitri whips his head around at the sound or I suppose scent of something I don’t hear or smell and looks worried, he pushes the girl in the back and insists “hurry up’ with a sort of vicious determination. 

I watch nonplussed, but then I hear a shriek and everything makes sense, Santiago, Alec and Caius must have come back from the Amazon finally bringing Joham in for his long-awaited trial. The problem is there is no way the human is going to avoid this.

‘What going on?” She asks nervous, just in time for the four of them, no five I hadn’t noticed little Jane though that would explain the screaming, to round the corner. 

I could get a human out of here having merely seen a couple of guys in black who acted a little threatening, but these five monsters one being dragged and missing half an arm in a weird bloodless way, yeah that's not going to fly in any circumstance, I guess the little American's dead.

“what the hell is that human doing here,” asks Caius in a violent tone.

“it's nice to see you too” Demetri quips but no one laughs and he sighs “we were about to get rid of her”

"I'd hope you were,” Caius says his voice stony, and I know the humans chance of survival has gone from slim to none.

“dibs” calls Alec cheerfully and I growl involuntarily, I didn’t drag this human around for nothing.

“No” decides Caius “bring her, I have a feeling Aro would want to meet her”

It makes no sense there's nothing special about her, though strangely Caius seems more focused on the trashy horror novel she's clutching. Still, Demetri grabs her arm and ignoring her protests pull her along to the throne room behind the others. I feel a twinge of pity and quickly bury it beneath centuries of not caring.

She's as good as dead, and when have I ever cared about the dead?


End file.
